


I remain at your side

by Viken2592



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 17:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viken2592/pseuds/Viken2592
Summary: My take on Hawke and Fenris' relationship post act III.





	I remain at your side

And indeed, he did. Fenris stayed at Hawke’s side as they left Kirkwall in an attempt to divert the Divine’s forces. At first, they followed the coast line to the west, giving Fenris an excuse to hunt slavers arriving from Ferelden on their ships full of living cargo, still festering from the chaos of what was now known as the fifth blight. But even he had to admit the trail of bodies would make them easy to find eventually. Currently, they were debating whether to keep going west, or to take a boat to either Ferelden or Orlais. None of the options were great. Just a few more miles to the west laid Starkhaven, and Hawke feared Sebastian was too chantry loyal not to give them up should they go there.

Ferelden was big, but it was also the first place anyone would suspect her to go. She needed to find the wardens. They were her best shot at understanding the strange, red form of lyrium that had driven both knight-commander Meredith and Varric’s brother Bartrand insane. That warden she had met during the qunari uprising; Alistar, who had given her the necklace that augmented her magic. Perhaps he… She didn’t know how long they’d have to be on the run. It mattered not, as long as they stayed together, he said. Her chest was filled with the familiar warmth of her feelings for him as Fenris uttered those words. Gratitude. Fortitude. She smiled at him.

Hawke often thought of their friends. Aveline, Merrill, and Varric were still in Kirkwall. Last she’d heard, Varric had been apprehended by the right and left hand of the Divine, no doubt to interrogate him about her whereabouts. She wasn’t worried. If anyone could spin a tale, it was Varric. He knew how to get in contact with her if he needed. He was currently taking care of the business in the Bone pit mine for her, and thanks to him, she would not be without coin any time soon.

Aveline still worked as the captain of the city guard, trying to uphold as much order as she could after the upheaval of the circle, the templar order crumbling into ruins and the chantry blown into pieces. No one had yet been installed as the new viscount. Until then, Aveline and her loyal guards were the best chance at keeping relative peace the city had.

Merrill had sworn to help the situation at the alienage after she had shattered the magical mirror in her apartment not long ago. After the upheavals, Isabella had offered her to come on her ship, but Merrill figured her best way of helping was to stay in the alienage. Isabella has made sure shipments of fresh food and water would always come safe into the Kirkwall harbour, clearing free of scavenger ships ready to take advantage of the chaos in the city, and Aveline would make sure the supplies got into the alienage.

Hawkes brother Carver stayed loyal to the templars and continued to serve after Meredith’s death. He would often visit Merrill in the alienage and help in any way he could. Hawke’s heart swelled at the memory of him defying the knight-commander that day the chantry was destroyed. Mother would have been proud, she thought. She was proud of him for finally admitting his feelings for Merrill, albeit it undoubtedly clashed with his role as templar.

She missed Dog. But he was better off with Carver. According to her brothers last letter, Dog had stolen a whole batch of sausages from the templars quarters and nearly recieved a flogging. 

Hawke tried not to think about Anders. But sometimes she did. Fenris could find her staring into the camp fire, a serious expression on her face. He said nothing, for they’d had a very different relation to the mage. Where he had seen only weakness, she had seen something else. Even as the mage’s insanity augmented towards the end, she still trusted him. It had been a mistake, but Fenris didn’t scold her for it. He trusted _her_ , that was all that mattered.

 

They reached Ferelden within the next week. It didn't take long before they encountered darkspawn. Hawke should have guessed. As Anders had told her, the problem with darkspawn didn’t end with the death of the archdemon. Hawke mostly worried about templars. Outside Kirkwall, her champion title was unlikely to protect her from her apostate status. She and Fenris avoided the large trade routes as their appearance might cause too much attention. A human traveling with an elf was a rare sight, and Fenris’ markings caught the eyes of most.

As they travelled through the forest towards Vigil’s keep, the last place Hawke knew the wardens were stationed in Ferelden, they were ambushed. The monsters seemed to appear from underground. She had fought them before, and hated them with all her being. They had destroyed her home, murdered her sister. She normally didn’t give in to feelings when fighting, but this time she wanted to kill so intensely it made her uncareful. She was hit with two arrows in the left thigh, and as she fell, she only had mana enough to cast a barrier spell around Fenris as he finally took down the last hurlocks with a crushing blow of his sword.

Afterwards, he came up to her, splattered in blood.

“Stupid mage”, Fenris growled, “you’re normally more careful than this”.

“It can’t be that serious”, she managed to tease through gritted teeth, although the pain of the poisoned arrows spread through her leg like fire, “you wouldn’t be angry if it was”. She had already taken the antidote to the poison, and was building up enough mana to start casting a healing spell.

“Are you ready?” Fenris asked, grabbing the arrows at her thigh with his gauntleted hands. She nodded, bracing herself. He pulled them out, tearing at her flesh. She let out a flood of swear words, some of them in Tevene, which made him smile. She did learn something from him after all.

 

After they made camp, ensuring no more darkspawn would ambush them through setting up both magical and iron traps, Hawke started removing her champion’s armour, a worried knot between her eyebrows.

“We need to clean our armour carefully. Their blood…”

“It’s tainted.”

He helped her clean her armour before removing his. The night was calm, cool after a warm day. The smell of forest; moss, grass, ripening berries, almost got through the smell of dried blood and sweat of their bodies. Hawke pushed a dirty hand through her hair and sighed, “I’m a mess”.

Even so, she was still beautiful, Fenris thought.

Hawke stood up. “We passed a stream not long before we were ambushed. I can hear it from here. I’m going to take a swim.”

Fenris was surprised. “It can be dangerous. Fetch some water and clean up at camp.”

“I’ll be fine”, Hawke said, defying him as always, “I’ll let you know if I get attacked by a bear. Besides, you look like you need a swim too”.

“I can’t swim”, Fenris replied dryly. “Slaves aren’t taught that either.”

Hawke looked at him. She let out her hand in a gesture to make him take hers.

“I’ll teach you. Come.”

 

He had finally agreed to come with her, but only to make sure she “didn’t kill herself by stepping on a slippery rock,” as he said, which made her laugh. He brought his sword. She brought cloth and soap, and unwillingly thought of Anders again. He was the one who had taught her the value of good hygiene after battle. “The smallest wound can kill the strongest of men if infected”, he’d said. Anders would mix healing spells with non-magic knowledge of medicine to become the best healer Kirkwall had known. She quickly let the thought of Anders go, passing the image of his dead body to a place in her heart that she would deal with when she was ready. This was not the time.

Still in her tunic, she stepped out in the stream to her thighs, gasping shortly as the chilly water hit her newly healed wounds, still sore. She rubbed her arms with the soapy water, washing away dried blood, revealing small scars from previous battles. The cool, clean water invigorated her. She cupped her hand into the stream and drank a mouthful. As she held the back of her hand over her mouth, she glanced at Fenris. He stood by the brink of the stream, watching her. He wore the camisole he usually had underneath his armour, and his leggings. She said nothing, just reached her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked out into the stream and took it.

Together they cleaned themselves as good as they could. The sounds of the calm stream and their movements in the water filled the evening air. She gave him the soap and turned her back to him. She looked slightly over her shoulder, and crossed an arm around her chest to place her hand on top of her shoulder, pointing her fingers towards her shoulder blades. She wanted him to help her clean her back. He dipped the soap in the stream, and cupped a handful of water that he let fall over her back. Her muscles tensed a little from the cold sensation.

“Take this off”. Fenris tugged slightly at her tunic. She hesitated a little. Then she crossed her arms around her in a movement that let the tunic go over her head. He took it and placed it over his shoulder, and directed his attention back to her. She was standing with her naked back towards him, her arms wrapped across her chest. When he saw the blush on her face, he realized her thoughts, and could feel his breeches tighten despite the cool water. Was this going to happen, now?

 

It had been a while since they had slept together. After the happenings of the last days in Kirkwall, they had been nothing but in a state of confusion and agitation. After she learned the divine planned another exalted march on Kirkwall, they decided to leave in a hurry, packing only what was most necessary. They spent the nights sleeping close to each other, but only for a few hours before taking down camp and hurrying away again. There had been little time, nor opportunity to really do anything but walk, fight, eat and rest.

He hadn’t thought of it much, only that he wanted to be at her side - but now he realized he missed it. To hold her while moving inside her, to have her move with him. There hadn’t been much chance to do it after they had finally got together, after he dared to beg for her forgiveness for being such a coward three years before. That they had gotten back together was all that mattered. She was the most important thing that had ever happened to him, and as they survived the battle in Kirkwall against both Orsino and Meredith, he was determined to never let her go again.

 

This moment was a rare occasion of just being right where they were. They both felt the pause happen, and enjoyed it. The ability to relax for just a night reminded them of each other, what they felt besides being two people fleeing and fighting together.

How could I forget? Hawke thought. I’ve been so busy thinking about getting to the wardens, I’ve almost lost sight of us.

Her skin broke out in goose bumps of pleasure as Fenris’s hands gently caressed her back. His hand slipped around her waist as he moved closer. She leaned against him. But first… she turned around, and before he could do anything, she said; “One, two, three, dip!”, and grabbed him to so their heads came underwater.

They both came up spluttering, him surprised and furious, her laughing. But before he had time to curse something about her being a stupid mage in Tevene, she moved close, embraced him with her naked arms, and kissed him.

 

Fenris was a gentle lover. It hadn’t surprised her. As she got to know him in those years before the deep roads expedition, she surmised that underneath the walls of bitterness, hate and resentment he had built around himself from being the victim of so much abuse, Fenris longed to express tenderness. He wanted to be happy, but struggled to find ways out of his hate. Hawke never cultivated any idea of saving Fenris from himself, and would sometimes draw the line when he would burst out in hatred over mages, hurting her. But she wished to stand beside him as he tried to find ways out of his bitterness and look to the future. She knew he could. Where he in battle would channel that intense anger towards their enemies, he became more and more careful and tender in his gestures and words towards her as he started to trust her.

Then came that night when he told her he had been thinking of her, that he found himself unable to think of little else. She took the lead, knowing he had no memories of being with anyone before. She knew Danarius had abused him. She wanted to be part of a new life for him, where the past no longer defined him. She led his hands to undress her, to gently cup her breasts. She made him lie underneath her as she mounted him, gripping his hands, entwining their fingers. As he had started to reach the climax of his accelerating sensation, he sat up to embrace her, burying his face where her neck met her shoulder. Soon his whole body went stiff, the lyrium in his tattoos lightning up the edge of the room where the bed was. A strangled moan escaped his throat.

She didn't realize it then, but at that moment, Fenris’s mind flooded with memories from the time before he was a slave, only to have those memories pulled away as his orgasm faded. It had been too much for him to bare at the time. He left her by the bed in the morning, reluctant to talk about what had happened for years after. She thought she had lost him, and was almost ready to give up, until she saw him wearing the red piece of cloth she had given him around his wrist. She knew then there was a chance. She only needed to give him time, give him space. She was willing give him that and more.

 

This night, Fenris placed the cloth on the soft moss near the brink of the stream, and laid her down after removing the remains of his wet clothes. She smiled at how he was now confident enough to take the lead, and drew him close. They kissed hungrily, the sensation of his body against hers sending waves of hot flashes through her. She gasped as his erection pressed between her legs, and he looked down where their hips met to see she was still wearing her wet smallclothes.

Almost irritated, he tugged at them with both hands. He looked back at her. She was smiling, resting her upper body on her arms. Her skin was covered in goose bumps and her blush spread to her chest. Beads of water rested against her skin and caught the light of the setting sun. Her eyes conveyed all that he wished to invoke in her; trust, happiness. Love. The sight of her left his mouth dry. He placed his eyes on the bush of dark hair between her legs. He bent down to kiss her, tracing his lips down to her breasts, indulging in her moans as he licked and suckled, until he moved towards her centre. Her muscles tensed, hips slightly raised.

“Fenris…”

He looked up at her. Do you trust me? his eyes said. Her fists clenched. She nodded. He opened her by gently placing a hand on her thigh, and carefully let his tongue run along her slit. She moaned, loudly. It was the encouragement he needed. Her smell and salty taste made him so hard it almost hurt. But he kept tasting her, pressing his tongue where her sensitive folds met, up and down, like a cat slowly lapping water.

Her breath came out heavy. As she arched her back, he placed his hand between her legs and slipped two fingers into her, curving them. She could not hold back a scream. He continued to lap at her until her knees started trembling, and heard her whisper “it’s happening”. Her entire body suddenly tense, he brought her over the edge. She invoked the maker’s name, her fists clenching and opening. 

He climbed back on top of her. She placed her arms around him, hands in silver hair, kissing him with such passion he almost lost his breath. Her embrace guided him, she opened her legs and with her hand she led him inside her. He could not believe how hot and soft the sensation was. He could not believe how much he needed her.

He tried to control his movements, to draw out the pleasure as long as possible. But her hands on his back, her voice whispering in his ear, her kisses, it was nearly too much. As she encouraged him to move faster, his thrusts became shorter and more intense, and she mimicked his movements with her hips. When he finally came, he buried his head in her neck, letting go of weeks of tension in his orgasm.

 

For the longest moment, they laid in each other’s arms. Their heavy breaths drew quieter, the pounding of their hearts slowed to normal pace. Fenris spoke first.

“We should get back to camp”.

She smiled. Always worried, always practical.

“Way to spoil the mood.”

As they dressed, slightly uncomfortable at the feeling of cold and wet cloth, they heard a noise from the other side of the stream. Both tensed, he grabbed his sword, a cryospell flashed ready in her hand. A few bushes rustled, then out from the forest came a halla. And then another one. All and all, four white hallas appeared in front of them, drinking from the stream. The creatures didn’t seem to fear them. The last rays of the sun hit their white fur and glistened in their entwined horns. Hawke paused her spell, Fenris sheathed his sword on his back. They watched the hallas for a few moments, listening to their soft lowings.

“These might belong to a nearby dalish clan”, Hawke said. “We could try to find them to trade for food and herbs”.

“Tomorrow”, Fenris answered, “now we need to dry our clothes by the fire and get some rest.”

“I’m starving. Maybe we should try to catch some fish before we go?”

“You know I hate fish.”

She laughed. She knew. They turned their backs to the stream, walking towards their camp. Fenris’s hand searched for hers. She took it. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone who has read and given kudos on this fic! It was my first attempt at writing smut soooo... I was kind of nervous about it. I find it so great that there are still a lot of Fenris/Hawke-fans out there. Keep the love going.


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